How do you honor your husband and not wear your wedding ring?
It’s a question I never thought I would have to ask.
Yet it’s one of the most common questions widows silently wrestle with.
When my husband, Quintin, unexpectedly passed away on April 9, 2024, I became part of a club nobody wants to join.
A widow.
A title I never wanted.
A title I certainly wasn’t prepared for.
And while there were countless decisions to make in the days, weeks, and months that followed, one decision seemed to linger longer than all the others.
What do I do with my wedding ring?
The Night My Husband Died
My journey with my wedding ring actually began the night Quintin passed away.
As I knelt beside his lifeless body, I desperately wanted answers.
I wanted to ask God why.
Why him?
Why now?
Why us?
Why our children?
I was angry.
Heartbroken.
Confused.
Completely shattered.
I wanted to demand answers from Heaven.
But kneeling there beside the love of my life, all I could do was lift my hands and give thanks.
Not because I understood.
Not because I agreed.
Not because I wasn’t devastated.
But because I couldn’t deny what a gift he had been.
A gift as a husband.
A gift as a father.
A gift as my best friend.
A gift that I had been blessed to love for nearly 25 years of marriage and 30 years together.
My heart was breaking while simultaneously thanking God for every year we were given.
Grief and gratitude occupied the same space.
Looking back now, I think that’s why my wedding ring became so complicated afterward.
Because it wasn’t just jewelry.
It was proof that he had been here.
Proof that our love story was real.
Proof that all those years actually happened.
Why I Kept Wearing My Wedding Ring
For nearly a year, I continued wearing my wedding ring.
At first, I couldn’t imagine taking it off.
But if I’m honest, there were other reasons too.
The ring made me feel safe.
A wedding ring creates a boundary.
People see it and assume someone is waiting for you at home.
As a woman navigating the world alone for the first time in decades, there was comfort in that.
The ring felt like armor.
A shield.
A small piece of the life I had lost.
Yet wearing it also created new challenges.
People would see the ring and ask about my husband.
“What does your husband do?”
“How long have you been married?”
Questions that seem innocent until your husband is no longer here to answer them.
Every question forced me to decide whether I had the emotional energy to explain my story.
Every question reminded me of what I had lost.
The Questions Nobody Sees
As time passed, I found myself wearing the ring some days and leaving it off on others.
There wasn’t a grand plan.
No announcement.
No timeline.
Just a grieving widow trying to figure out how to live in a reality she never wanted.
And while I was quietly wrestling through that process, people noticed.
For more than a year, messages rolled in.
“Why aren’t you wearing your ring?”
“Did you take your ring off?”
“What happened to your wedding ring?”
Some asked gently.
Others made assumptions.
Still others offered opinions.
Many people would tell me:
“Honor your husband and wear your ring.”
As if honoring Quintin was somehow attached to a piece of jewelry.
As if the depth of my love for him could be measured by what was or wasn’t on my finger.
The truth is, I wasn’t hiding anything.
I simply wasn’t ready to talk about it yet.
Because this wasn’t really about a ring.
It was about grief.
Identity.
Faith.
And learning how to trust God in a chapter I never wanted.
So I held that story close until now.
The Ring Became Something Different
As April 2025 approached, I realized something had shifted.
Not in my love for Quintin.
Not in my memories.
Not in my gratitude for the life we shared.
But in how I viewed the ring itself.
One of the biggest turning points came during my first trip after Quintin’s death.
For the first time, I left my wedding ring at home.
Not because I was ready.
Not because I wanted to.
Not because I had somehow “moved on.”
I left it because I was terrified of losing it.
God forbid something happened to me.
God forbid there was an accident.
God forbid my children had to walk through another unimaginable loss.
One thought kept running through my mind:
“What if my kids never receive this ring?”
For years I had viewed my wedding ring as a symbol of my marriage.
But now I saw something different.
I saw legacy.
I saw family history.
I saw a tangible reminder that their dad was here.
That our love story was real.
That a man named Quintin Conway loved their mom with everything he had.
And suddenly I wasn’t just thinking about Lily and Ella someday holding that ring.
I was thinking about Kale.
I was thinking about Fisher.
I was thinking about all four of our children.
About future spouses.
Future grandchildren.
Future generations.
About stories that would be told long after I am gone.
The ring was no longer just mine.
It belonged to our family’s story.
Every time I slipped my wedding ring onto my finger, I began sensing something in my spirit.
Not guilt.
Not pressure.
Just a gentle reminder.
“Lori, I am still here.”
Because while marriage was one of God’s greatest gifts to me, it was never meant to be my identity.
Marriage is for this earthly life.
My identity has always been found in Christ.
That truth was difficult to accept.
For decades I wasn’t just Lori.
I was Quintin’s wife.
Mrs. Conway.
His person.
And suddenly God was asking me to trust Him with an identity I never wanted.
A future I never chose.
A chapter I never would have written.
The more I prayed, journaled, worshipped, and processed my grief, the more I realized God wasn’t asking me to let go of Quintin.
He was asking me to trust Him.
Trust Him with my memories.
Trust Him with my future.
Trust Him with my identity.
Trust Him with what comes next.
Why I Started Wearing My Promise Ring Instead
Instead, I began wearing my promise ring.
The ring Quintin gave me before wedding bands.
Before mortgages.
Before children.
Before careers.
Before nearly 25 years of married life together.
Wearing that ring reminded me where our story began.
And for the first time, I stopped seeing my wedding ring as something I had to wear.
I started seeing it as something I was entrusted to protect.
An heirloom.
A treasure.
A legacy.
The Mrs. Box Ring Ceremony
Months later, God brought all of those emotions full circle.
I found myself attending the Never Alone Widows Retreat at Pursell Farms in Alabama.
Hundreds of widows.
Hundreds of stories.
Hundreds of broken hearts.
And yet there was hope everywhere.
Women learning how to breathe again.
Women learning how to trust God again.
Women learning how to walk through grief one day at a time.
During the retreat, each widow received a beautiful Mrs. Box.
Then came the ring ceremony.
An invitation.
Not a requirement.
Not pressure.
Simply an invitation.
When we were ready, we could place our wedding rings inside.
I remember holding that box and crying.
Because it wasn’t really about the ring.
It was about surrender.
Surrendering the identity I had known for decades.
Surrendering the fear that taking off my ring meant letting go of Quintin.
Surrendering the belief that my love for him was somehow attached to a piece of jewelry.
Trusting that honoring my husband and trusting God with my future could both be true.
And there, surrounded by women who understood this unique grief, I placed my wedding ring inside the box.
Not because I stopped loving him.
Not because I was moving on.
Not because our story ended.
But because God had already done a work in my heart.
Truthfully, I had taken my wedding ring off for the final time in April of 2025.
The ceremony wasn’t the moment I removed it.
The ceremony was the moment I surrendered it.
The Gift of Widow Sisters
One of the greatest gifts from that retreat wasn’t the box.
It was the women.
Women who understood.
Women who didn’t need explanations.
Women who knew exactly why a ring could feel so heavy.
Women who knew grief and gratitude can coexist.
Women who reminded me I wasn’t alone.
This retreat was the start of my healing and not moving on rather moving through my grief and giving myself permission and ultimately choosing for grief and gratitude which leads to joy to co-exist.
There Are Times Your Soul Needs To Praise
As I placed my ring inside that Mrs. Box, I wasn’t saying goodbye.
I had already said thank you.
The night Quintin died, I thanked God for the gift of his life.
This moment felt like thanking God again.
Thank You for the marriage.
Thank You for the memories.
Thank You for the laughter.
Thank You for the children.
Thank You for the love story.
And thank You, Lord, for carrying me into a future I never would have chosen.
A Ring Doesn’t Determine Love
The truth is this:
The ring came off.
But the love remained.
The memories remained.
The lessons remained.
The legacy remained.
The children remained.
And God remained too.
Taking off my wedding ring didn’t mean I loved Quintin less.
It didn’t mean I forgot him.
It didn’t mean I was moving on.
It meant I was trusting God.
Trusting Him with my grief.
Trusting Him with my identity.
Trusting Him with whatever comes next.
If You’re a Widow Reading This
Maybe you’re wondering whether it’s time.
Maybe you’re feeling guilty.
Maybe you’re afraid of what people will think.
Maybe you’re afraid of what it means.
Let me gently remind you:
There is no widow rulebook.
There is no timeline.
There is no right or wrong answer.
Some widows wear their rings forever.
Some take them off after months.
Others after years.
The ring is simply a symbol.
The love remains.
Always.
And if you’re walking through grief today, let this be your reminder:
There are times when your mind simply cannot process reality.
The questions are too big.
The pain is too deep.
The circumstances make no sense.
In those moments, your soul needs to praise God.
Not because everything is okay.
Not because you understand.
Not because you’ve healed.
But because worship reminds your heart of what is true when your circumstances make no sense.
So worship your way through it.
Praise your way through it.
Sing through the tears.
Sing through the anger.
Sing through the heartbreak.
Sing until your soul remembers who God is.
Sing until hope returns.
Sing until you can breathe again.
Sing until you are healed.
Because healing doesn’t come from a ring.
Healing comes from the One who never leaves.
And even now, in the chapter I never wanted, He is still here.
❤️🩹
If you are a widow please comment below and let me know what you have decided to do with your wedding ring? There is not one right way for healing, so please feel free to be raw and vulnerable here you are welcome. Also, if you are looking for resources please visit HERE- NEVER ALONE WIDOWS to get connected on taking a step toward your grief healing journey!
My husband of 42½ years passed away in March 2023, after a 6-month battle with pancreatic cancer. I am still wearing my wedding ring, but am wondering if it soon might be time. I am thinking of taking my ring and his wedding ring to an incredible jeweller and having him craft a new ring for me to wear on my left middle finger. I love your story here, and will continue to ponder my decision! Thank you!
Virginia,
First, I am so sorry for the loss of your husband. Four and a half years is far too short, and I know how much courage it takes to even begin considering what to do with your wedding ring.
One of the things I have learned is that there is no “right” timeline. Whether you continue wearing it, place it somewhere special, redesign it into another piece of jewelry, or simply keep it tucked away for now, the decision is yours alone.
Taking off a ring isn’t about loving them less. It’s about honoring your grief journey in the way that feels right for you.
Please give yourself grace as you navigate this. There is no rush, and there is no wrong answer. Thank you for sharing your story here. ❤️
— Lori
Hi
My husband died on January 26th 2024. We were together 50 years, married 49 years.
I still grieve everyday. I don’t cry every day anymore, but that empty spot in my heart still hurts so bad. 💔 My ring the band is still on my finger. The 25th year diamond is put up. I wear his band around my neck. I haven’t even considered not wearing it. I will wear it until I die or Jesus comes back. 🙏 This grief road is a hard road, and different I suppose for each of us. I am older than a lot of you are, by looking at the picture. Not sure why that really matters, but i think it might. 🤔
Wanda,
Thank you for sharing your story. Fifty years together is such a beautiful gift, and I can only imagine how deeply you miss him every single day.
I love that you wear his band around your neck and continue to wear your ring. What I’ve learned through this journey is that there is no one right way to grieve. For some, the ring stays on forever. For others, there comes a day when taking it off feels right. Neither choice changes the love we have for our husbands.
I smiled when you said you’ll wear it until you die or Jesus comes back. ❤️ What a beautiful testament to the love you shared.
Praying for comfort as you continue walking this difficult road. Thank you for being here.
— Lori
Until death do us part…Dan’s life had ended, but mine hadn’t.
Peggy,
What a powerful statement.
“Until death do us part… Dan’s life had ended, but mine hadn’t.”
I think so many widows wrestle with that truth. We never wanted this chapter, yet somehow we’re asked to keep living, keep showing up, and keep finding purpose in the days ahead.
Thank you for sharing those words. I know they will resonate with many women reading here.
❤️
— Lori
My husband died in a tragic accident August 2, 2025. He was 58 years old. We were married almost 24 years and together 29 years. I want to save it for my children. I’ve been thinking about not wearing it. It’s actually been at the jewelers getting repaired so I’m kind of getting used to not having it on, but I miss it. I feel somewhat guilty not wearing it. I miss him so much and don’t know how to do this life without him. I continue to go through the motions doing what needs to be done for our children.
Carol,
My heart hurts reading your comment. August 2025 is still so recent, and the loss of a spouse after nearly 24 years of marriage leaves such an enormous void.
I think so many widows understand exactly what you mean when you say you’re just going through the motions for your children. Sometimes that’s all we can do—take the next step, then the next one after that.
Please don’t feel guilty about your ring. Whether it’s on your finger, at the jeweler, tucked away for safekeeping, or eventually passed down to your children, none of those choices diminish the love you shared with your husband.
Thank you for trusting us with your story. You are not alone in this journey. ❤️
— Lori
My husband/best friend, JL, was healed from a short bout w/ blood cancer when he passed on June 21, ’25. I have worn my wedding ring since that date. JL often lavished me during our 26 yrs of marriage w/ rings on special occasions. My plans are to take my wedding & gifted rings together and have a custom ring made from all of them. I know it will be difficult, but through prayer & faith the Lord will guide me through this season.
Melanie,
Thank you for sharing your story. I love how you described JL as your husband and best friend. ❤️ Twenty-six years of marriage is such a beautiful legacy of love.
What a meaningful way to honor both your marriage and the memories attached to those rings. I can imagine how emotional that process will be, but I also love the thought of carrying pieces of those special moments with you in a new way.
Your faith shines through your words. I truly believe the Lord will guide each step of this journey, just as He has carried you through the days since June.
Thank you for sharing your heart here. Sending you love and prayers. ❤️
— Lori
My Joe very unexpectly went to be with the Lord on January 15, 2023, after 40 years of marriage. I too struggled with what to do with my ring. I really felt the Lord impressing on my heart that the ring represented an earthly contract that ended with “until death do you part”. It did part us. The love hasn’t ended, the relationship will always be there, it’s just been suspended until I join him in heaven. My ring is now on a chain that I wear frequently. I love and miss him every day, reminding myself that while each day is a day farther from when I last held him, it’s also a day closer to when I see him again.
Diane,
Your comment brought tears to my eyes.
“The ring represented an earthly contract that ended with ‘until death do you part.’ It did part us. The love hasn’t ended.”
What a beautiful perspective and one that I know will encourage so many women who find themselves wrestling with what to do with their rings.
I love that you now wear yours on a chain and that it serves as a daily reminder of both the love you shared and the hope of seeing Joe again one day. As hard as grief is, what a comfort it is to know this goodbye is not forever.
Thank you for sharing your wisdom and your faith with all of us. ❤️
— Lori
My husband passed away in December of 2025. We were married for 45 years and together for 46. I was his caregiver for 2 years. I still wear my wedding rings and I wear his wedding band around my neck. I find myself slipping my finger in his band. I don’t think there is a right or wrong time to stop wearing them. It’s a personal choice on this personal journey. I’m still trying to breathe in and out, battle the loneliness, and with the help of Jesus find a way to grieve in a healthy way.
Lori,
Forty-six years together is such a beautiful testimony of love. ❤️ Thank you for sharing your story.
I smiled when I read that you still find yourself slipping your finger into his band. There are so many little habits and connections that remain long after they’re gone.
I completely agree with you that there is no right or wrong time. Grief is deeply personal, and each of us has to navigate it in the way that feels right for our own heart and season.
Praying that Jesus continues to carry you through the loneliness and gives you strength one breath at a time. Thank you for being here.
— Lori
Thank you for sharing your heart. Today would have been my 41st anniversary. Saving my ring for a grandchild. I sometimes wear the ring guards on a different finger.
Kathy,
Thank you for sharing. ❤️
I know anniversaries can bring so many emotions, and my heart is with you today as you remember 41 years of marriage.
I love that you’ve found a way to wear your rings that feels meaningful to you and that you’re planning to save them for a grandchild someday. What a beautiful legacy of love.
Thank you for reminding us all that there are so many different ways to honor both our spouses and our grief journeys.
— Lori
It’s been 2 1/2 years since I lost my sweet Jim to Alzheimer’s, just shy of our 40th wedding anniversary. I am still wearing my ring and have added Jim’s as well to my ring finger. Maybe someday, just not now ❤️
Moira,
My heart goes out to you. Losing your sweet Jim just before your 40th wedding anniversary must have been incredibly difficult.
I love that you wear both rings together. ❤️ And I think your words, “Maybe someday, just not now,” capture exactly what so many widows feel.
There is no timeline and no pressure. We each take these steps when and if we’re ready.
Thank you for sharing your story and for being part of this conversation.
— Lori
I lost my husband, Joe, suddenly/unexpectedly 15 months ago. I’m sitting on a balcony at a hotel in the Finger Lakes on the eve of our 30th wedding anniversary. I’m wearing my ring and his has been made into a beautiful pendant that I wear everyday. I was drawn back to the place that we shared so many anniversary trips. I feel his presence. So many memories and laughs started here. I love your reasons for not wearing it. I’m not there yet. Cheers!
Melinda,
Thank you for sharing your heart. Fifteen months is still so very early, and losing your husband suddenly on the eve of your 30th anniversary is simply heartbreaking.
I love that his ring has been transformed into a pendant that you wear every day. What a beautiful way to keep him close while honoring the memories you shared together.
Your words about feeling drawn back to the places that hold your memories really resonated with me. Those places become sacred in a way, don’t they? Filled with laughter, love, and moments we never want to forget.
And you’re exactly right—there is no rush. If wearing your ring feels right today, then that’s exactly what you should do. ❤️
Thank you for sharing your story and for encouraging others who may be walking a similar path.
— Lori
I have just read your blog in tear’s 😢 it has been exactly 12 mnths since i lost my husband , we met at 15 , and married at 23, he passed away at 59 . i am totally broken . I have worn my ring up until now and now feel ready to put it away safe , like to avoid the questions , but did feel guilty, but taking in what you have just written has helped me alot , i would love a box like you had to savewit for my daughter’s .Thankyou for being open and honest 🥰 Elaine
Elaine,
Your comment brought tears to my eyes. ❤️
To have known and loved your husband since you were 15 years old is such a beautiful story, and my heart breaks for you as you navigate this first year without him. Twelve months can feel both like a lifetime and like yesterday all at once.
I want you to know that if you feel ready to put your ring away, there is absolutely no guilt needed. Taking off your ring does not take away the love you shared, nor does it change the life you built together. It simply means you are honoring your grief journey in the way that feels right for you.
The fact that my words brought you some comfort means more than I can say. Thank you for sharing your heart with me. Sending you so much love as you continue to heal one day at a time. ❤️
— Lori
P.S. The memory box I chose has become such a special place for my ring. I hope you find something equally meaningful for yours and for your daughter one day.
I have just read your blog in tear’s 😢 it has been exactly 12 mnths since i lost my husband , we met at 15 , and married at 23, he passed away at 59 . i am totally broken . I have worn my ring up until now and now feel ready to put it away safe , like to avoid the questions , but did feel guilty, but taking in what you have just written has helped me alot , i would love a box like you had to savewit for my daughter’s .Thankyou for being open and honest 🥰 Elaine
Elaine,
Your comment brought tears to my eyes.
Forty-four years together is a beautiful love story, and I am so sorry you are carrying the pain of losing him. Twelve months is such a significant milestone, and I remember feeling like I had somehow survived a year while also wondering how it had been a year already.
What stood out to me most was when you said you feel ready to put your ring away but still felt guilty. That was exactly where I found myself. The guilt can be so heavy, but I’ve come to realize that taking off a ring doesn’t take away the love, the memories, or the life we built with them.
The ring is a symbol of your marriage. The love is part of who you are.
I love that you’re thinking about preserving it for your daughters. What a beautiful way to honor both your marriage and your family’s story.
Thank you for trusting me with such a tender part of your journey. Sending you a big hug. ❤️
— Lori
I lost my husband August 10, 2020. I wore my ring for two years after he passed away. I only had a gold wedding band because my diamond had fell out of my engagement ring a couple years before my husband passed away. I really didn’t wanna take my ring off, but I put it on my keychain so it goes everywhere with me. A black silicone ring like everybody wears nowadays on my ring finger for me. It’s saying I am a widow. but I for One I’m not ready to move on with anybody else and people ask me. Why aren’t I dating? It’s been almost 6 years and I’m like I am not ready for that. I still love my husband. I’m not ready to move on with anybody but my black silicone ring just reminds me of my husband and that I am still married to him. I’m just a widow and he lives in heaven and I live here. I miss him every single day his cemetery thankfully is only two streets away from where I live so I can go to the cemetery every day if I want to, and that brings me comfort, even though I have pictures of him around my house I keep one on my bedside table, which I talk to him quite often some of my friends think I’m crazy, but that brings me comfort to talk to him and to see his picture there every night, but I really don’t think anybody ever has to take the ring off unless that’s what they absolutely really want because in my eyes I am still married. He just lives in heaven. God bless you and I have been following you on TikTok since way before your husband passed away and I’m so sorry that you lost him like that such a tragedy.🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻
Carol,
Thank you for sharing your heart and your story. ❤️
What stood out to me most is that you’ve found ways to keep your husband close that bring you comfort. Whether it’s carrying his ring on your keychain, wearing a silicone band, visiting the cemetery, or talking to his picture at night, those are all expressions of love. There is nothing crazy about that.
I think one of the hardest things for people who haven’t walked this road to understand is that taking off a ring doesn’t mean the love is gone, and keeping a ring on doesn’t mean someone is stuck. We each carry our spouses with us differently.
Your words, “I’m just a widow and he lives in heaven and I live here,” are so powerful. What a beautiful reminder that love doesn’t end just because someone is no longer physically beside us.
Thank you for following along all these years and for sharing your journey so openly. Sending you a big hug today and praying God continues to bring you comfort in the days ahead. ❤️
— Lori
My husband died recently. Jan of this year. I’m still wearing my ring. I was recently told of someone who had the diamonds from her engagement/wedding ring used to make a new ring which she wears on a different finger. When the time is right, I may do that.
Christine,
My heart goes out to you. January is still so recent, and I know these early months can feel overwhelming as you try to navigate a life you never planned for.
I love hearing the different ways widows choose to honor their rings and their marriages. Whether that’s wearing them, redesigning them, turning them into a new piece of jewelry, or placing them somewhere special, there truly is no right or wrong answer.
The common thread I keep hearing through all these comments is that love remains, even when the form of the ring changes.
Thank you for sharing your story and for being part of this conversation. Please give yourself lots of grace in this season. One day at a time. ❤️
— Lori
This July will mark seven years, and I wrestle with this very thing all the time. Will my family and friends think it means I’m “moving on”? Will they think I don’t treasure every moment I was blessed to share with the incredible man God gave me.
I don’t want to identify as single. When I don’t wear my ring, I feel anxious, and I also fear losing this tangible piece of our history together.
But I know that anxiousness is not coming from a place of trusting Jesus. This article has given me much to consider, pray over, and ultimately surrender. I’ve even started looking at ring boxes where I could safely keep both of our rings together. Whether my ring is on my finger or in a box, I want to trust that my future is in Christ. That is where my hope is, my protection is, and my identity is found. Thank you for sharing your journey with us!
Melissa,
Thank you for sharing such a beautiful and thoughtful perspective. ❤️
What stood out to me most is your honesty about the tension so many widows feel—the fear that removing a ring somehow means we’re forgetting, moving on, or diminishing the love we shared. I wrestled with many of those same questions.
I love what you said: “Whether my ring is on my finger or in a box, I want to trust that my future is in Christ.” What a powerful reminder that our identity isn’t found in a piece of jewelry but in Jesus.
And yet, those rings tell a story. They represent a covenant, a life, and a love that mattered deeply. Wanting to protect that history is such a beautiful thing.
Thank you for sharing your heart and your faith. I know your words will encourage so many women walking this road alongside us. ❤️
— Lori
I lost my husband on May 8, 2019 after 40 years together. Totally unexpected and he was 59. I’ve paired his ring with a beautiful heart necklace he gave me a few years ago. The rings he gave me, including my wedding ring, I wear intermittently now; usually when it’s somewhere I need to feel him close or I’m representing us at a family event. He will always have my heart; I’m grateful for the memories we made, the life we shared and knowing we will spend eternity praising Jesus together. I still don’t like this journey but I can say Jesus has been with me every step of the way! 🌸🩷🌸
Vicki,
Thank you for sharing your story. ❤️
I am so sorry for the loss of your husband. Forty years together is a lifetime of memories, love, and shared experiences.
I love the way you’ve found meaningful ways to keep him close—pairing his ring with the heart necklace he gave you and wearing your rings when you feel the need to feel connected to him. What a beautiful reminder that there is no one-size-fits-all approach to grief.
Your words about spending eternity praising Jesus together brought tears to my eyes. What a comfort it is to know that while this separation feels so long here on earth, it is not forever.
And I couldn’t agree more—none of us would have chosen this journey, but Jesus has faithfully walked beside us through every step.
Thank you for sharing your heart and encouraging others with your faith. ❤️
— Lori
VICKI, I Love your story you shared, it’s beautiful ✝️